How to Defeat a Dark Lord
by Ink-erPAINT-er
Summary: Death. Harry Potter understood it better than most. Harrie Carpenter undestands it even better. The now Harrie and her friends will get the Light back. Violence, major and minor character death, Fem!Harry, and slash relationships. You have been warned.
1. Introduction

**Alright people, this story has violence, character death, slash relationships, Fem!Harry, uncensored cursing, torture, and AU-ness. IT IS RATED M FOR A REASON.**

**Now, i have been told that this story moves fast, and that the characters are introduced too fast. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. The third chapter will be slower and allow you to get to know the characters.**

**This being said, I am not the amazing J.K Rowling, so let's get started.**

**How to Destroy a Dark Lord When All Good Allies are Dead**

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**::PREFACE::**

_**Before-hand information you need:**_

Voldemort rises by the end of the third book without the use of Harry's blood. The Tournament is cancelled, and most events from Order of the Phoenix happen in the forth year, such as:

Voldemort gains more power faster. He kills half the Order, Bill and Mr. Weasley, and several others during the beginning of Harry's forth year. Harry falls into a strange vat of goo in the Department of Mysteries, after running there to save Sirius, and is transformed completely (and most likely irreversibly) into a girl. Neville is attacked by brains, not Ron. Ron saves the now Harrie from a Killing Curse, gets hit and dies, along with Sirius, Moody, and Ginny. Voldemort of course doesn't recognize female Harry, and therefore doesn't posses her.

This is just up to Christmas break. Voldemort is getting more and more powerful, and Dumbledore tells Harrie about the horcrux's.

With Ron gone, Neville and Luna become the other part of the now-quartet. Harrie receives the horcrux lessons with Dumbledore during the second half of this year, and Dumbledore is killed by Bellatrix in the end, not Snape, and they never get the locket, fake or otherwise. In the Battle after, many students die including Fred, Lavender, Dean, Hannah Abbott, Zacharias Smith, Michael Corner, and several others. Flitwick and Sinistra are also killed, as are Tonks and Hestia. Even more are picked off during the summer. The Death Eaters are noticeably less distinct about their AKs now, and will kill nearly anyone regardless of age.

A full-out war is on by summer, and Voldemort has complete control of the Ministry. Since Harry is now a girl, they are able to pretend that 'he' fled the country in fear.

There are few Light survivors at Hogwarts. They include: Harrie, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Morag MacDougal, Millicent Bulstrode, Terry Boot, Demelza Robins, Jack Sloper, Su Li, Romilda Vane, Rose Zeller, Weaver Harper, Lemony Moon, and Orla Quirke. They are known for being Light, and are currently being hunted during the year; Harrie, Hermione, Neville, Morag, Millicent, Li and Terry's fifth year, Luna, Jack, Demelza, Lemony, and Weaver's forth year, and Romilda, Orla, and Rose's third year.

**In the year of Harrie and the others, the following people have been reported deceased or missing while fighting on the Light:**

_Ron Weasley, Gryffindor _

_Lavender Brown, Gryffindor _

_Parvati Patil, Gryffindor _

_Padma Patil, Ravenclaw _

_Michael Corner, Ravenclaw _

_Mandy Brocklehurst, Ravenclaw _

_Seamus Finnegan, Gryffindor _

_Dean Thomas, Gryffindor _

_Ernie Macmillan, Hufflepuff _

_Daphne Greengrass, Slytherin _

_Katherine MacDougal, Hufflepuff _

_Sally-Anne Perks, Hufflepuff _

_Anthony Goldstein, Ravenclaw_

_Zacharias Smith, Hufflepuff _

_Susan bones, Hufflepuff _

_Hannah Abbott, Hufflepuff _

**In the year of Luna and the others, the following have been reported dead or missing while fighting on the Light:**

_Colin Creevy, Gryffindor _

_Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor _

_Romilda Vane, Gryffindor _

_Justin Steele, Ravenclaw _

_Pamela Alton, Ravenclaw _

_Helen Dawlish, Ravenclaw _

_Maria Glossop, Hufflepuff _

_Roderick Seaton, Hufflepuff _

_Susanna Hesleden, Gryffindor _

_Ella Evers, Slytherin _

_Eva Evers, Slytherin _

_Shawn Cozen, Ravenclaw _

_Nadia Quirke_

**In the year of Romilda and the others, the following have been reported dead or missing while fighting on the Light:**

_Dennis Creevy_

_Stewart Ackerly_

_Astoria Greengrass_

_Jin Li_

_Derek Entwhistle_

_Cindy Davis_

_Aiden Bell _

_Kevin Whitby_

_Bernard Dunstan_

"_Most people think life sucks, and then you die. Not me. I beg to differ. I think life sucks, then you get cancer, then your dog dies, your wife leaves you, the cancer goes into remission, you get a new dog, you get remarried, you owe ten million dollars in medical bills but you work hard for thirty-five years and you pay it back and then - one day - you have a massive stroke, your whole right side is paralyzed, you have to limp along the streets and speak out of the left side of your mouth and drool but you go into rehabilitation and regain the power to walk and the power to talk and then - one day - you step off a curb at Sixty-seventh Street, and BANG you get hit by a city bus and then you die. Maybe." – Denis Leary_

Hello, my name is Harriet Carpenter, and my life is pretty much like the above quote, only weirder and more depressing.

I used to be a boy named Harry James Potter who went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with my best friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Until the end of my third year, at least.

Yep, the guy who killed my parents and tried to kill me – the most evil Dark Lord ever – rose again. He gained power so fast your head would spin, and killed more people than I can count now. The entire Weasley family, almost all of the Order of the Phoenix, and hundreds others to boot. (There was also an incident where Harry became Harrie, but let's not get into that now.)

Now we, the D.A – or what's left of it – are trying to figure out how to find the remaining horcrux's without leaving Hogwarts, as it is the only place we're even a little safe.

Oh yeah, you probably think that doesn't make since, because if I'm the Boy-Turned-Girl Who Lived, Voldemort is hunting me, right? Well he's not, because he thinks I'm still Harry Potter and am currently hiding in Argentina in order to live longer, instead of attending Hogwarts as Harrie Carpenter right under his non-existent nose. Of course, Voldemort isn't stupid (crazy, yes, but not stupid) so he had his minions administer Veritaserum to my closest friends, thinking they would know where "Harry Potter" was. Lucky, as I had already changed my name to Harriet Carpenter, they were able to get past the Truth Potion.

Without luck, I wouldn't be here at all, no matter what Hermione and Morag tell you.

At the beginning of forth year, with the Order re-formed and a few trusted people informed of my real identity, I started Hogwarts as Harriet Alice Carpenter, a half-blood who had been homeschooled for three years. Only some of the D.A knew the truth. (We had started the D.A to help train everyone at the beginning of the year; it was an official school group and everyone was welcome to join. We even had Slytherins in our numbers: Millie Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, and Weaver Harper.)

Honestly, Harrie was so much more fun than Harry, since Harrie couldn't act like Harry, lest I arouse suspicion. So Harry had to become Harrie, since Harrie was originally Harry and therefore more like Harry than Harrie. And if that doesn't confuse you, you're more stable than I am. Anyway, I had become less sheepish, more sure of myself, and slower to jump to conclusions. Yeah, that was hard. But I managed it, and here I am! (Yee haw.)

We tried to re-from the D.A, but after all the deaths last year, people weren't really lining up to join. One threat to their families, and they were gone, never to be seen in the RoR again. Only me, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Demy, Morag, Terry, Jack, Li, Alex (Rose prefers her middle name), Weaver, Lemony, Orla, and Romilda (or preferably Romy) were left. Most of us have nothing left to loose.

Anyway, right now me and my friends, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Demelza Robins, and Morag MacDougal are running from the Carrows and Umbridge, the professors who have taken over Hogwarts and turned it into a Death-Eater-In-Training camp. (Just to get you up to speed.)

We don't comply with the Death Eater part, hence the running.

"We're cornered. This is it." Moaned Demy now, tugging anxiously as she always did at her very long, dark, wavy hair.

"No it's not!" Morag corrected, her wavy dark brown hair fanning around her. (I know I'm used to being a girl by now, but these whole 'appearance descriptions' make me feel all…flowery. Just FYI.) "Look where we are!"

Sure enough, the six of us were standing in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"Quick!" I said, hearing the footsteps.

We ran back and forth three times, each thinking the same thing:

_We need a place to hide where they can't find us._

Just as a voice cried, "There they are!" a door appeared and we all ran inside.

Panting, Neville and I shoved the door closed.

"That was too close," said Hermione.

"Agreed." I panted, trying to yank my hair out of my face. It had turned to a long, straight dark brown when I had changed, and my bangs were cut thick over my eyebrows (to hide the scar; even though I used Glamours, it was a precaution), but my eyes had retained my mother's green colour.

"You guys running too?" said a voice behind us. We turned to see Millie Bulstrode, Orla Quirke, and Alex Zeller.

Millie was one of the not-so-few-any-longer Light Slytherins. (Actually, they are few now, after what happened to Daphne and her sister...) Millie was a large girl with dark blond hair she wore in a braid. Orla and Alex were two years behind us; Alex in Gryffindor, Orla in Ravenclaw. Orla had large eyes, a slightly mousy face, and brown hair, while Alex had curly blond hair and green eyes.

"Yeah," I answered. "We rescued a Firstie. They didn't appreciate it."

"I'll bet they didn't," agreed Orla darkly.

"What did you guys do?" asked Neville, taking in Millie's ripped sweater, Orla's un-tied bronze-and-blue tie, and Alex's missing shoe.

Orla grinned, her mouth showing all her teeth in a slightly scary look. "Just some D.A graffiti."

BANG.

We all wheeled around, wands raised, but it was only Lemony, Romy, and Li.

Lemony Moon was a fourth-year Ravenclaw with bright blue hair and eyes to match. We all suspected he had some Metamorphmagi blood in him, but he wouldn't tell. Romy Vane was a third-year Gryffindor, and looked slightly Indian, with curly brown-streaked-black hair and dark skin with freckles. Su Li – or Li, as she preferred – was in my year, but in Ravenclaw. She had gone a little rebellious last summer and died her hair dark blue with streaks of turquoise, navy, and ocean blue.

Before they even closed the door, Terry, Weaver, and Jack burst in as well.

Jack was a Gryffindor, and had short, auburn, pretty-boy hair with the swept forward bangs and all that jazz. It would have bothered me (I admit to judging _slightly _on appearances, though I try not to) but he was actually a nice guy, and not shallow either. The fact he was gay and happened to be in love with Lemony helped.

Terry, however, had never been the same since Michael's death. They were impossibly close as friends, but when they became more during the Christmas of fifth year…it was not a normal thing, to be sure. Extraordinary.

Terry was good-looking; he had the swept back blond hair (which he used to wear long and in a ponytail, but after Mike died, he chopped it off) and very beautiful eyes, but he would never be involved with anyone else, we all knew that. Honestly, I was amazed he was even alive, forget dating.

Anyway, on to Weaver. (I don't like describing everyone; what's the use? Who cares what people look like? (I guess I already admitted that I do though…woops) But Hermione says that if we're going to write this down, we have to do it right. Sigh.) Weaver has brown hair, but his bangs are streaked in the colours of the rainbow; you know, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.

"You guys too?" asked Morag. They nodded.

"We set off fireworks in Umbridge's office." Said Romy.

"We lit Alecto on fire." Said Weaver.

"You did _what?"_ I gasped, staring at him in disbelief.

"They put her out," Terry assured us gloomily. "But yes, Weaver shot a spell from across the classroom. I showed up in time to stop her from killing him."

"It was worth it." Jack assured, his brown eyes glittering.

"Bad news, Harrie," Li announced to the room, interrupting our fantasies of Carrow on fire.

"Who this time?" I asked resignedly. They say that after awhile, you stop feeling it. You can cut off your emotions and forget all the dead, the whole graveyard just for them…. The children, the parents, the lovers, the friends…

That's a fucking lie. You cannot _ever _stop feeling every death like a punch in the stomach and you can't forget. I can't forget how Mike was cut in half, left to bleed to death. I can't forget Ernie carrying in Susan's body, or Greyback killing him after. I can't forget Katherine's last words to her sister as she burned to death, and I can't forget Sally-Anne begging them to take her, not her baby brother. I can't forget Anthony being eaten alive from the feat up by an acromantula. I can't forget how Voldemort had Bellatrix cut Daphne into tiny pieces for being a 'trator', and made her little sister and brother watch. I can't forget Ron jumping in front of the spell meant for me, Sirius doing the same for Remus, Dumbledore being blown off the tower, or Professor Sinistra being crushed to death by a crumbling wall.

_**Ever.**_

"The Abercrombie's." He answered, pulling out a _Prophet_ clipping.

"Not Euan's parents?" Demy gasped. She was very close to her younger cousin, and thought of him like a brother. He had just started his fist year here.

I didn't want to hand her the clipping, but I did. I always did.

Demy read it frantically, and when she reached the sixth line, she began to sob. Morag put an arm around her best friend, but Demy said, "No! It's not fair! He was eleven! Just a baby!"

"You're right, Demy, it's not fair. None of this is fair." Said Neville comfortingly, patting her back. He had really changed in the last year – war does that to a person – but now he had lost all his residual baby fat, and was as tall as…Ron would have been. If it weren't for his dumb curved bangs, he would be gorgeous. Don't look at me like that. It's the estrogen.

The others looked slightly lost. We always did after a close death. Romy, Orla, and Hermione were crying slightly as well; Euan had been a really sweet kid.

"I wish I could do _something!"_ I finally burst out. "If there was just a way to get the horcrux's…"

"But the only way is to leave Hogwarts, and they'll find us for sure!" said Millie.

"On the contrary, Miss Bulstrode, I have an idea that just might work in your favour." Said a voice from the wall.

We all wheeled around for the second time to see that the purple picture on the wall, which was usually blank, now had none other than Albus Dumbledore in it.


	2. The Survivors

_**Alright people, this story has violence, character death, slash relationships, Fem!Harry, uncensored cursing, torture, and AU-ness. IT IS RATED M FOR A REASON.**_

_**Now, i have been told that this story moves fast, and that the characters are introduced too fast. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. The third chapter will be slower and allow you to get to know the characters.**_

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**I know this is short, but i saw that i got 100+ hits for just the first chapter...wow...(only three reviews though; why?) so i wanted to post it right away. The next chapter is already started, and that WILL HAVE (not even slightly explicit) SLASH IN IT. That means two guys who are in love. I told you, so don't complain.**

**Also, my Terry and Mike are inspired/based from the character is Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkned by the amazing Thanfiction. The differance is that my Mike and Terry are actually _in _a slash relationship. Just FYI.**

**And here it is...Dumbledore's amazing plan.**

**Please review :D**

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Chapter 2: The Survivors.

"Dumbledore?" I gasped, staring at him.

He chuckled. "Yes, yes, guilty as charged. Though this is only my painting form, I hope you know."

I nodded. _Duh_. "But how did your painting get in here?"

"And why haven't you talked to us before?" added Romy.

Dumbledore winked. "Because I wasn't here before. Remember, Harrie, I told you that help at Hogwarts will always come to those who ask for it?"

"Yes," I said, confused. "But we didn't really ask…"

Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "Close enough."

"So what's your plan?" asked Hermione as everyone gathered around the portrait.

But Dumbledore frowned, craning his painted neck to see them all.

"Is this everyone?" he asked. "Are there no more Light students?"

"There are," answered Terry. "But most are in hiding. They're afraid for their families."

"And you all are not?" questioned Dumbledore, still looking confused.

"We have no one left." Li Answered.

"It's – it's that bad?" he gasped. I had never seen the former headmaster look so shocked. Wasn't he supposed to know everything?

I nodded, deciding to just bite the bullet and tell him.

"The Weasleys are dead. Most of the Order and the original D.A and plenty of opposing families. Morag lost her twin sister, Katherine. Luna lost her father. Jack lost two brothers. Weaver's older sister and parents were killed, and Romy and Orla lost their parents too, because they opposed. Li's Aunt, little brother, and grandmother were killed. And we all lost friends. Lots of friends."

_(Side note: Why didn't I mention Mike in this? We were friends, and Terry is one of my good friends, so what no give him his memorial mention? The answer is simple: I didn't think Terry could handle it. It was an unspoken rule in the D.A that you simply do not talk about Michael Corner. Once, Theodore Nott said something rather insulting about their relationship, and – not to sound dramatic, it's simply the truth – but the next time he was seen, his eyes were very red and bloodshot, he jumped at small noises, and screamed every time he saw a piece silverware) _

Dumbledore steadied himself against his frame, leaning to the side and looking all of his…100 plus years.

"That many?" He gasped.

I nodded. "It would be easier to count the survivors." I liked to list the live people after the casualties. Makes it a little less hard on the person you're telling. "Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Slughorn, Hagrid, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Emmeline Vance, Professor Vector, I think, but we haven't seen him in a few weeks. Fleur Delacour, your brother Aberforth, and supposedly Charity Burbage, but we haven't heard from her in months. But those are only the adults." I added the last at his terrified expression. It didn't lessen.

"My goodness," he said, closing his eyes. "This is worse than I feared. We will have to act now." We all nodded in fierce agreement. We needed to act _last year_. "But first, Harrie, tell me; how are the students?"

He looked so worried; I felt compelled to lie.

"They're…good." I said, faking a smile. Dumbledore didn't buy it.

"Alright, here's the thing," Millie confessed. "We're trying to protect the little ones, but sometimes it doesn't work, okay?"

"My cousin was killed yesterday," said Demy, showing the old man no mercy. "He was a First Year."

He pressed his face into his hands.

"Here's what I need you to do," said Dumbledore quickly. "I know you cannot leave Hogwarts at this time to look for the horcrux's, as Voldemort –" several people flinched "– would be sure to catch you. However –" He smiled. "– there is another way.

"In the Department of Mysteries, there is a Time-Turner Display. You saw this, yes, during the battle last year?" Hermione, Neville, Luna, and I nodded. "Behind those, there is a safe. Inside this safe lies another Time-Turner…one that turns back years, not hours." He looked at us expectantly.

Hermione gasped. "So – you want us to go back to the Quiet Years and look for the horcrux's then?"

Several of the D.A gasped, and Terry's eyes went very wide. He had a strange look on his face, though I wasn't sure why.

Dumbledore nodded, smiling slightly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Correct, Miss Granger." He turned to me. "Now, Harrie, I trust you remember what I believe the horcrux's to be?"

I nodded. "The locket, something of Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's, and Nagini."

"Precisely." Dumbledore agreed. "Now, we know he made the locket and the things belonging to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff before his apparent death, and Nagini before he started to regain power. Therefore, you will all go back to the time when you –" he pointed to us fifth years "– were in your first year at Hogwarts. You won't look enough like you former selves to attract suspicious, but be cautious nonetheless. You may want to bring some Polyjuice potion as well, and some healing Dittany. You'll also need to retrieve Gryffindor's sword, but I believe Severus can help you with that and the potions."

"But even if we can do it, what's the point? Everyone is dead." Said Morag helplessly.

Dumbledore smiled.

"That, in my opinion, is the best part. If you can do it, Harrie, you can also go back and defeat Voldemort before he has the chance to kill so many."

That made me smile.

Back in the Gryffindor common room a few hours later we were nursing wounds and making plans.

_(When I say that, understand the little amount of influence I am putting on the fact that we were caught and tortured again. It happens at least once a day, and that's just how it is. I would describe it too you, but, really, it's old news. We have a story to get on with.)_

"Alright, so we need the sword and potions from Snape, a bag with an Extension Charm on it to hold everything, some Defence and Dark Magic books, clothes, and food." Hermione was saying, scribbling neatly on a piece of parchment. Demy was trying a spell to heal the gash on Jack's face without leaving a scar, while Neville applied a Murtlap paste to the strange rash that had erupted on my right arm (courtesy of Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Squad).

"That sounds about right." I agreed, poking at one of the now purple boils on my arm. It promptly erupted, spraying Jack with a green-ish goo.

"Gross!" he cried, wrenching out of Demy's grasp and grabbing for a towel.

I tried not to laugh. "Sorry, Jack…"

On the bright side, once the boil erupted, it shrunk and disappeared.

"But you forgot something." I continued to Hermione. "We also have to break into the Ministry and steal a special Time-Turner."

"That should be easy," said Jack sarcastically, Scourgify-ing his hair and rubbing it with a towel to try and get the goo out. "We just have to get past the Death Eaters, the loyal Ministry employees like Umbridge, and, oh yeah, some guy named Voldemort."

"It won't be that bad." Hermione Disagreed. "We'll just use Polyjuice potion."

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding. "We can pick out some Ministry people, knock 'em out, and take their hair."

Everyone laughed. We were looking forward to that part.

"Won't they notice, though?" said Demy. "I mean, if fifteen of us just suddenly disappear from school…"

Neville paused in his smearing of Murtlap. "That's a good point, Demy. I hadn't thought of that."

They turned to me.

"Well it won't matter, will it?" I said. "If we can do it, none of this will have happened, right? Everyone who died will be alive, and Voldemort will be gone for good."

It was quiet for a second while Hermione, Neville, Demy, and Jack contemplated that glorious idea.

"We have to win." Jack said simply.


	3. Our Stories, Our Way

**I'm sorry this took so long! I just couldn't bring myself to write it...it's so hard to write, honestly. You'll understand after this chapter. **

**I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again, but I'll do my best. Let me know what you think! This is the longest chapter I have ever written in my life. Lots of slash, violence, death, sadness, and even a little humour and fluff! It has it all! Hahahaha.**

**Thanks to ReadingWolf, Think-About-Nargles, Follow-The-Nargles, and especially Sometimes. Sometimes, I hope you're still reading this. I loved your reviews and they really inspired me to finish this. I hope you like it :)**

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**CHAPTER 3: Our stories, our way.**

**Terry.**

_When everything is wrong I come talk to you_

_You make things alright when I'm feeling blue_

_You are such a blessing and I won't be messing_

_With the one thing that brings light to all of my darkness_

_You're my best friend_

_and I love you, and I love you  
Yes I do_

_There is no other one who can take your place_  
_I feel happy inside when I see your face_  
_I hope you believe me_  
_Cause I speak sincerely_  
_and I mean it when I tell you that I need you_

_You're my best friend_  
_and I love you, and I love you_  
_Yes I do_

_I'm here right beside you_  
_I will never leave you_  
_and I feel the pain you feel when you start crying_

_You're my best friend_  
_and I love you, and I love you_  
_Yes I do_

_You're my best friend_  
_and I love you, and I love you_  
_Yes I do_  
_Yes I do..._  
_Yes I do_

Terry Boot knew he must not have survived the last encounter with the Carrows, because he was currently in heaven. Heaven was a concept that hadn't existed since Christmas last year. But here it was, as wonderful as yesterday…

"Perfect." The deep voice said simply. A hand brushed through his hair, which was suddenly almost to his shoulders again. Terry couldn't move.

But even if he was dead, why was he in heaven? Didn't he deserve hell?

Suddenly he couldn't think.

"I've missed you…" he continued, brushing his lips over Terry's cheek gently.

Finally, Terry managed to force sound through his lips.

"Mike…Mike, is this – are you really…or am I –" he stammered, not able to speak correctly while looking into those green/brown eyes. He had missed him so much…

Michael smiled, and Terry felt his breath catch in his throat.

"No, Terry, you're not dead, and I am not truly here either." He answered, sliding off the other boy to lie on his side beside him.

Terry wanted to cry. Why _couldn't _he be dead? Where was the _justice? _Hadn't he done enough yet?

"Don't cry, love," Michael said urgently, fastening his arms around his best friend and pulling into a hug. "There's hope, we know that for certain now." Terry shivered slightly, shaking his head. "Yes there is." Michael assured him. "You know for certain now that the Time Turner exists, and where it's hidden. It's possible now, Terry!"

Terry pulled back, taking in Mike's face. He hadn't changed one bit, except for the re-addition of his lower body of course. The same high cheek bones, light skin, dark brown hair… Mike was truly beautiful, Terry had always known that. Since the first day they met.

"But Mike, I can't do it!" he said shamefully, not wanting to look at his friend – the person he loved more than _anyone _else – as he admitted his weakness. "I just can't do it alone!"

Michael gently lifted up his face. "You aren't alone, Terry," he said. "You and the Survivors are our only hope. You can't give up!"

And then he leaned forward, capturing Terry's lips in a kiss that the other boy had dreamed of since the Battle. Terry leaned into him, remembering, feeling the hope surge back into him as Mike demonstrated, not for the first time, how much he loved him through his mouth. After a few seconds, the lips left his and Mike moved along his face to his ear.

The _weak _spot.

Being Ravenclaws, Terry and Michael would often debate different points of view on things. Occasionally, when Mike really wanted to win, he would attack one of two things: Terry's hands or his ears. It was a trick worthy of a Slytherin, and it worked every time. Including now.

He _had _to do this. Mike believed he could, and that was certainly enough reason to try. Like Mike had said, as he was dying in Terry's arms in the fourth floor corridor:

"_You have to fight for both of us now."_

Michael, knowing he had won, pulled away from the blond, smiling.

_Ego diligo vos._

Terry smiled at this as well.

_Praeter meus vita, _he answered. He paused, then:

_I will try my hardest._

Michael smiled even brighter now, and Terry felt his heart speed up.

"So this is a dream then?" he asked, tracing Michael's face with his fingertips.

"Somewhat," he answered in true Raven fashion. "There's a part of me that lives on in you, _meus pectus pectoris, _close as we were…are." Terry smiled. "So I believe that you are having a dream in which that part of me is with you. It's not entirely a dream because it is neither a memory nor a fantasy, but not entirely real, as you are certainly asleep."

Now Michael leaned forward, pulling Terry back into an embrace, and began to nibble and suck on his neck. Terry couldn't help moaning, and he leaned into the touch.

Because of Mike's death, because of _Voldemort,_ Terry had lost the one person who would actually touch him, and it showed in demeanour. His parents had always considered him a disappointment and made sure he knew it, and until he was almost thirteen, Terry had never been able to cry. Crying was weakness, they would say. Mike had a different opinion.

And that Christmas break of third year when Mike came home to find his parents, brother and sister all killed in the most horrible ways, Terry – from across the country – had felt his pain like it was his own. Terry remembered plain as day grabbing his father's wand, turning his teacup into an unauthorized Portkey and arriving at Michael's house seconds later. After that, they both moved in with Mike's grandparents.

But Terry didn't have time to reminisce anymore as Mike's lips moved lower, and all he could think about was _him_.

_Vos es decorus._

_Proximus amicus._

_Praeter meus vita__, ego diligo vos…_

"Terry? TERRY!"

Someone was shaking the bed. Terry moaned, burying his head in Michael's chest. He felt laugher vibrate under him.

"Terry, _diligo, _you have to wake up." He said.

Terry shook his head.

Mike sighed. "What if I promised to come back tomorrow night?" he offered. That made it easier…but it was still hard to willingly leave him.

Terry knew he didn't have a choice, and he sat up. He knew, somehow, that the door in the corner would take him out of the dream. He didn't want to leave, though.

"Come here," said Michael, pulling his arm to turn him, and locking their lips together again.

When he pulled back, Terry was breathless.

_I love you._

But before Terry could attempt to get up and leave, something was poured on him.

Spluttering, Terry jerked up, trying to wipe off the horribly cold water with his blue-and-bronze sheets. Someone above him laughed, and he looked up to see wavy brown hair and black eyes staring back at him, her wand still raised.

"What the bloody hell was that for, Morag?" he demanded, shivering in the cold tower air.

"Well, you wouldn't wake up!" the girl supplied, smiling. Terry noticed his dorm mates, Kevin Entwhistle and Steven Cornfoot, along with Morag's other dorm mate, Lisa Turpin, looking fearfully at them from the other side of the room. He took it in, but didn't care.

"What is it?" asked Morag, looking at him suspiciously.

"What the – Morag, what did you do to Terry?" demanded Li stepping carefully into the dorm and taking in the soaking bed.

"I just woke him up," she said, grinning.

"You are impossible, MacDougal." Said Li, rolling her eyes.

Terry, however, wasn't paying attention to the other two. He couldn't stop thinking about Mike's face. His lips. His smile…

"TERRY!"

He jumped, looking back to the other two D.A members. Kevin, Steven, and Lisa had obviously fled the dorm, but Li and Morag were looking at him like he had grown another head.

"What?" he said innocently, getting up and starting to dress. Maybe, just maybe they wouldn't see…

"You're smiling!" cried Morag, grabbing his shoulders to turn him to her. "Look, Li!"

Hard as he tried, Terry couldn't hide it. Li gasped.

"What _happened _to you?" the blue-haired girl breathed, her eyes trailing over her friend's face. "And what's that on your _neck?_"

"What – what do you mean?" Terry said, watching both girls stare at a point on his throat. He raised his hands to it, feeling… but no, it couldn't be…

Pushing past Morag, Terry dove toward the mirror.

On his neck was a large red mark.

*The D.A has known love as well as pain.*

**Millie**  
_Keep drinking coffee, stare me down across the table_  
_While I look outside_  
_So many things I'd say if only I were able_  
_But I just keep quiet and count the cars that pass by_

_You've got opinions, man_  
_We're all entitled to 'em, but I never asked_  
_So let me thank you for your time, and try not to waste anymore of mine_  
_And get out of here fast_

_I hate to break it to you babe, but I'm not drowning_  
_There's no one here to save_

_Who cares if you disagree?_  
_You are not me_  
_Who made you king of anything?_  
_So you dare tell me who to be?_  
_Who died and made you king of anything?_

_You sound so innocent, all full of good intent_  
_Swear you know best_  
_But you expect me to jump up on board with you_  
_And ride off into your delusional sunset_

_I'm not the one who's lost with no direction_  
_But you'll never see_  
_You're so busy making maps with my name on them in all caps_  
_You got the talking down, just not the listening_

_And who cares if you disagree?_  
_You are not me_  
_Who made you king of anything?_  
_So you dare tell me who to be?_  
_Who died and made you king of anything?_

_All my life I've tried to make everybody happy_  
_While I just hurt and hide_  
_Waiting for someone to tell me it's my turn to decide_

_Who cares if you disagree?_  
_You are not me_  
_Who made you king of anything?_  
_So you dare tell me who to be?_  
_Who died and made you king of anything?_

_Who cares if you disagree?_  
_You are not me_  
_Who made you king of anything?_  
_So you dare tell me who to be?_  
_Who died and made you king of anything?_

_Let me hold your crown__, babe._

Millie Bulstrode was going to have to kick some serious arse soon.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists and trying to keep her eyes on her Arithmancy book and ignore what was happening around her.

In the common room, only her fellow fifth years remained. Some – her and Blaise – were studying. The others – Crabbe, Goyle, Tracey Davis, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson (the ever-present addition to Draco's arm) – were discussing their _Master._

"Father and I are in the Inner Circle, you know," Draco was saying in his signature voice: snobby. "So, naturally, we know all the Dark Lords top secret plans."

"Merlin, Draco, that's so impressive…" Pansy said in a low voice that she obviously thought was sexy.

Theodore snorted, and Draco glared at him.

"Got a problem, Nott?" he sneered.

Theodore rolled his eyes. "No, _Draco,_ no problem…just thinking that – if you and your father are really in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle and all – why did both of you get Cruciated at the last meeting?"

Draco went slightly pink. For a second, Millie thought she could see a trace of… _something _in the blonde's eyes, but then it was gone as Tracey, Theodore, and Blaise laughed. Pansy looked shocked.

"And if you're so favoured," continued Blaise, grinning. "Then why are you even at Hogwarts? Shouldn't you be by his side?"

Millie froze slightly, keeping her eyes on her Arithmancy carefully. This was something the D.A needed to know.

Looking extremely angry and embarrassed – _He's even shaking a bit, _Millie noticed – Draco answered, "Well, if you _must_ know, the Dark Lord has asked –" suddenly Draco looked up, glancing across the room with his silver eyes narrowed. He was looking right at Millie. Luckily, she was smart enough to not look like she was listening, and Draco continued, slightly quieter. "– He has asked me to keep an _eye _on the D.A, make sure they don't suspect anything…_useful_."

Draco leaned back importantly now, and the others – even Theo and Blaise – looked impressed. Then glanced over at Millie, and she didn't move an inch, feeling their eyes on her.

Draco smirked, then continued, "Don't worry… it won't be long before they're _all _gone."

*The D.A will persevere – no matter what _they _think.*

**Neville**

_He thinks that we're finished!_  
_He thinks that we're done!_  
_He thinks that its over,_  
_His battle is won !_

_HA!_

_He thinks that we're finished,_  
_but we aren't through!_  
_Stop and think my friends:_  
_what would Harry do for you?_

_Harry never gave up the fight!_  
_Harry stood up for what is right,_  
_Well now it's our turn!_

_Our turn…._  
_make a joyful sound!_  
_Voldemort is going down!_

_We must unite_  
_so we can fight!_  
_Turn the battle around!_  
_Time's running out,_  
_it's time to shout!_  
_Voldemort is going down!_

_Can't you feel a fire burning?_  
_Now it's time to be a man!_  
_A great big muscley super big, super hot man!_

_AHAA!_

_We won't be pushed around anymore!_  
_We'll be a force you cannot ignore!_  
_We'll be an army for Dumbledore!_  
_For Dumbledore!_

_We must unite_  
_so we can fight!_  
_Turn the battle around!_  
_Time's running out,_  
_it's time to shout!_  
_Voldemort is going down!_

_We must unite so_  
_We can fight!_  
_Turn the battle around!_  
_Time's running out,_  
_it's time to shout!_  
_Voldemort is going…_  
_(We must unite_  
_so we can fight)_  
_Voldemort is going down!_

It wasn't really fair that there were only three fifth year Gryffindors. Of course, nothing was fair nowadays, Neville had to remind himself.

He was paired with Megan Jones for Herbology; she was one of the ones who had too much to lose to be in the D.A: six younger siblings (plus four cousins who lived with them), a sick mother, no father, and only her and her grandmother to take care of everyone. Neville really didn't blame her, after all, it was only he and his grandmother at home; he didn't really have anything to loose, since Gran was on the run anyway.

"Can anyone tell me what plant will bite a human?" asked Professor Sprout.

Neville, for once, didn't raise his hand. He knew the answer, of course, but he was too lost in thoughts of the war to volunteer it.

"No one?" Sprout asked, looking disappointed. Neville watched her eyes flicker over the class, then – predictably – settle on him. "Neville?"

Suppressing a sigh, Neville answered. "Would that be the Fanged Geranium, ma'am?"

Sprout beamed. "It certainly would! Five points to Gryffindor!"

Neville smiled weakly, hoping to return to his thoughts, but Sprout clapped her hands and said. "All right, now we're going to have a bit of fun!" There were several groans from the mixed Gryffindor/Hufflepuff class. Class was not allowed to be 'fun' anymore. Hell, they weren't even allowed to get near the Chinese Chopping Cabbages, let alone a Fanged Geranium or Devil's Snare.

Neville was really starting to wish that Harrie and Hermione weren't in the hospital wing. Class was always more bearable with one or more of the D.A, as other students tended to be either afraid of them, or try and attack them….Which never worked out well for those people.

Sprout passes out slips of paper and asked everyone to figure out the questions between them and their partners.

Neville pulled to parchment closer to himself, trying not to see Megan's flinch.

"Who discovered Gillyweed?" he read in a would-be cheerful voice. "You want to answer this one, Megan, or shall I?"

Jones flinched at the use of her name, and she mumbled something Neville couldn't hear. He sighed and checked off _Elladora Ketteridge._

Honestly, Neville felt sorry for Megan. After the deaths of Ernie, Katherine, Sally-Anne, Zach, Susan, and Hannah, the remaining 'Puffs – Megan, Wayne Hopkins, Eloise Midgen, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and John Summerby – were torn between trying to protect and care or their families, and wanting to respect their friends' memories by fighting.

They chose wrong, in Neville's opinion, but what was right for one wasn't always right for another. For instance, Neville believed that it was right for Megan to try and protect herself, and therefore her family, but some of the others – the ones who just wanted to save themselves…

_What does a Gurdyroot look like, and give one fact about its uses._

Neville grinned at this, and – after sparing a glance for Megan, who was staring adhemently at the desk – he began to write:

_Gurdyroots resemble a large green union, and are said to ward of Gulping Plimpies…_

*The D.A are not ashamed of their own – no matter how different.*

**Luna**

_Somewhere over the rainbow_  
_Way up high,_  
_There's a land that I heard of_  
_Once in a lullaby._

_Somewhere over the rainbow_  
_Skies are blue,_  
_And the dreams that you dare to dream_  
_Really do come true._

_Someday I'll wish upon a star_  
_And wake up where the clouds are far_  
_Behind me._  
_Where troubles melt like lemon drops_  
_Away above the chimney tops_  
_That's where you'll find me._

_Somewhere over the rainbow_  
_Bluebirds fly._  
_Birds fly over the rainbow._  
_Why then, oh why can't I?_

_If happy little bluebirds fly_  
_Beyond the rainbow_  
_Why, oh why can't I?_

_I wonder if they can see me from down here…_ Mused Luna from her perch on a windowsill of the Owlery. _Probably not…but it's a good place to watch from. I should tell Harrie about this._

From up here, Luna could see Naomi Fawcett, Eva Davies, Alfie Edgecombe, Spencer Turpin, and Lucy Dobbs searching the nearby grounds for her. She didn't _want _to have to hide, but Harrie had made her _promise _to learn 'self-preservation'. Luna didn't get it; who cared if they teased her? She sure didn't, but Harrie, Neville, Hermione, and all the others really seemed to think that eventually Naomi, Eva, Alfie, Spencer, and Lucy would get _violent_. They couldn't afford to lose anyone else, so – even though Luna thought they must all have Wrackspurts in their brains – she agreed.

So she was hiding. It was easier than running, and the view here was beautiful.

Luna knew why they didn't like her: she was different. She believed in Wrackspurts and Nargles and Gulping Plimpies and Crumple Horned Snorkacks…

Somehow that was wrong. Like how Kevin Entwhistle used to say that what Mike and Terry had was 'wrong'. Luna couldn't see how; they were beautiful together. Even the Negaquals wouldn't bother them; they were clearly more in love than any two people ever had been. How was that _wrong?_

She watched Naomi and Spencer, the 'leaders', order everyone else to check here or there, and remembered the month that she and Lucy were friends. That was in their First Year…before Lucy found out what everyone else though of Luna – what was 'cool' to think – and never spoke kindly to her again.

Oh, and what a wonderful month it had been…Almost as wonderful as second half of her Second Year and all the years after had been.

Luna relaxed against the wall, watching her long blond hair fly around her.

_So nice…to have friends…_

*The D.A is first and foremost, friends.*

**Alex**

_Friends are quiet angels_  
_Who lift us to our feet_  
_When our wings have trouble remembering how to fly_  
_They stand by us and give us_  
_the strength to try_

_Friends are quiet angels_  
_Who somehow make you see_  
_The light that's in the darkness_  
_before the dawn_  
_All at once the journey's not so long_

_But it's the laughter and the fun_  
_Sometimes the feeling that we're one_  
_All the tears we cry together you and I_  
_That will keep us heart to heart_  
_as time goes by_

_Friends are quiet angels_  
_Who fill your life with grace_  
_Thrilled to share your joy_  
_when a dream comes true_  
_And on my wedding day_

_*****_  
_I'm blessed 'cause I can say_  
_I've found a quiet angel_  
_You're a special angel_  
_I found a quiet angel in you_

Alex didn't like her birth name.

I mean, come on, who names a kid _Rose Alexis Zeller?_

Okay, maybe it wasn't _that _bad, but she didn't like it. She had gone by Alex since she had learned that she actually had a choice. It was easy to do at Hogwarts, because no one knew her yet, and therefore didn't – like her family – insist on calling her 'Rose'. Only her closest friends – Dennis Creevy, Astoria Greengrass, Jin Li, Aiden Bell, Orla, and Romy – and the teachers knew her 'real name' (and now the D.A, of course), and she liked it that way.

_Of course, _Alex thought with a sniff, _Dennis, Astoria, and Jin are dead now, so only the D.A know now…_

The blond shook her head, trying to refocus back on her History of Magic essay. It didn't work.

_And how am I supposed to focus, _thought Alex angrily, _when a fourth of my year is _dead?

Mentally, Alex couldn't help going over the list in her mind…

_Dennis Creevy_

_Stewart Ackerly_

_Astoria Greengrass_

_Jin Li_

_Derek Entwhistle_

_Cindy Davis_

_Aiden Bell _

_Kevin Whitby_

_Bernard Dunstan_

_How do Harrie and Hermione and the others _do _it? _She wondered for the twelfth time._ There's so few fifth years…and here I am complaining. _

She squinted at the dusty old book, trying to force her brain to work properly. Over at a table next to her, Natalie MacDonald, Jimmy Peakes, Braddock Malcolm, and Graham Pritchard were anxiously whispering with their heads together. Alex pretended not to see for a moment, but she could still hear them. They were harder to ignore than Romy and Orla who were currently 'studying' (kissing) a few shelves away.

"– But I hear that they're giving up." Malcolm was saying, grinning at Pritchard, his fellow Slytherin third-year. "I've seen them running around the castle, packing things and whatnot. I think they're running for it."

He looked very satisfied with this, as did Pritchard. Natalie and Jimmy, however, didn't. Alex knew that they were Light, but they were also scared. They had family, unlike her….

Alex had come home last Christmas break, after spending her Second Year in the D.A, and found her mother and father dead. There was a note from the Death Eaters that said terrible things along the lines of _'If you hadn't resisted, this wouldn't have happened!', 'This is what you get for opposing the Dark Lord!', _et cetera. However, Alex's mum had also left a note, as soon as they realized they were targeted. It encouraged the twelve-year-old to keep fighting, that their deaths weren't her fault, and that they were proud of her.

And Alex wasn't going to let them down.

"You really think so?" Natalie was saying to Braddock. She looked afraid.

"Yep," the boy said, stretching in the library chair and resting his hands behind his head. "Only a matter of time. They know they've lost."

Alex snorted quietly, drawing the attention of the four Gryffindors and Slytherins. She quickly looked down at her book, but watched them out of the corner of her eye. Pritchard looked worried at her confidence, but Malcolm just grinned.

"Don't worry, the Dark Lord has a plan."

*The D.A has a plan as well.*

**Jack**

_I hear the clock, it's six a.m._

_I feel so far from where I've been_

_I got my eggs I got my pancakes too_

_I got my maple syrup, everything but you._

_I break the yolks, make a smiley face_

_I kinda like it in my brand new place_

_I wipe the spots off the mirror_

_Don't leave the keys in the door_

_Never put wet towels on the floor anymore' cause_

_Dreams last so long_

_even after you're gone_

_I know you love me_

_And soon you will see_

_You were meant for me_

_And I was meant for you._

_I called my momma, she was out for a walk_

_Consoled a cup of coffee but it didn't wanna talk_

_So I picked up a paper, it was more bad news_

_More hearts being broken or people being used_

_Put on my coat in the pouring rain_

_I saw a movie it just wasn't the same_

_'Cause it was happy or I was sad_

_It made me miss you oh so bad 'cause_

_Dreams last so long_

_even after you're gone_

_I know you love me_

_And soon you will see_

_You were meant for me_

_And I was meant for you._

_I go about my business, I'm doing fine_

_Besides what would I say if I had you on the line_

_Same old story, not much to say_

_Hearts are broken, everyday._

_I brush my teeth and put the cap back on_

_I know you hate it when I leave the light on_

_I pick a book up. Turn the sheets down._

_And then I take a deep breath and a good look around_

_Put on my pjs and hop into bed_

_I'm half alive but I feel mostly dead_

_I try and tell myself it'll be all right_

_I just shouldn't think anymore tonight 'cause_

_Dreams last so long_

_even after you're gone_

_I know you love me_

_And soon you will see_

_You were meant for me_

_And I was meant for you._

_Yeah... You were meant for me and I was meant for you._

Jack Sloper liked to sing. He could play the guitar fairly well. He was as brave as any other Gryffindor…except perhaps Neville or Harrie. He was good-looking and intelligent.

So why would Lemony not even look at him? He had liked the blue-haired boy since third year, and Lemony was openly gay…he didn't see why he wouldn't date him. Hell, Jack would have dated himself, not to sound to big-headed.

He brushed his fingers over the strings softly, trying to decide which song to play next. All the D.A could carry a tune – not necessarily well, but they could sing. Jack, Terry, Demy, and Harrie – though Harrie wasn't very good – could play the guitar, and Hermione was able to manage a few tunes on the piano, thanks to her muggle parents.

Singing helped. There was always a song that related to one you had lost, and music was able to reach nearly everyone. Nearly.

Jack loved to practise here, on the corridor next to Ravenclaw Tower. That had nothing to do with the fact that Lemony was a Ravenclaw. Nothing at all.

Finally, Jack settled on a song. Staring out over the grounds, able to pick out over a dozen spots where his friends had been killed, he began to play…

_"See the devil on the doorstep now_

_My, oh my._

_Telling everybody oh just how to live their lives…_

_Sliding down the information highway,_

_Buying in just like a bunch of fools._

_Time is ticking and we can't go back,_

_My, oh my._

_"But what about the world today?_

_What about the place that we call home?_

_We've never been so many_

_And we've never been so alone…._

_You keep watching from your picket fence,_

_You keep talking but it makes no sense._

_You say we're not responsible,_

_But we are, we are._

_You wash your hands and come out clean._

_Fail to recognise the enemies within._

_You say we're not responsible,_

_But we are, we are, we are, we are._

_"One step forward making two steps back_

_My, oh my_

_Riding piggy on the bad boys back for life._

_Lining up for the grand illusion;_

_No answers for no questions asked._

_Lining up for the execution_

_Without knowing why…_

_"You keep watching from your picket fence_

_You keep talking but it makes no sense_

_You say we're not responsible_

_But we are, we are_

_You wash your hands and come out clean_

_Fail to recognise the enemies within_

_You say we're not responsible_

_But we are, we are, we are, we are…"_

"Beautiful." Said a voice behind him and to his right.

"AH!" Jack cried out, jumping about a foot and turning to see none other than Lemony himself leaning in the doorway.

"What?" the blue-haired boy smirked, shrugging. "It was just the truth."

Jack blushed, still feeling angry as being scared.

"Why do you say things like that," he demanded, pulling off his guitar and standing, still scowling. He tried to ignore the butterflies at the fact that this was the most Lemony had ever spoken to him. "Yet you still refuse to go out with me?"

Lemony grinned, blue eyes sparkling.

"You know me…I like to play hard to get."

*The D.A fight for love in the Darkness*

**Lemony.**

_If weakness is a wound that no one wants to speak of_

_Then "cool" is just how far we have to fall_

_And I am not immune, I only want to be loved_

_But I feel safe behind the firewall_

_Can I lose my need to impress?_

_If you want the truth I need to confess_

_I'm not alright, I'm broken inside, broken inside_

_And all I go through, it leads me to You, it leads me to You_

_Burn away the pride_

_Bring me to my weakness_

_'til everything I hide behind is gone_

_And when I'm open wide with nothing left to cling to_

_Only You are there to lead me on._

_'Cause honestly, I'm not that strong._

_I'm not alright, I'm broken inside_

_Broken inside_

_And all I go through, it leads me to You_

_It leads me to You_

_And I'll move,_

_and I'll move,_

_and I'll move,_

_Closer to You (x3)_

_I'm not alright I'm broken inside_

_Broken inside_

_I'm broken inside, Broken inside_

_And all I go through leads me to You_

_Leads me to You_

_I'm not alright, I'm not alright_

_I'm not alright_

_... that's why I need You._

Actually, Lemony Moon did like Jack.

The problem was, something had happened during Lemony's Third Year – in other words, the previous year. It made him afraid to get close to Jack, even though he trusted the Gryffindor a lot. If you knew, you wouldn't blame him. So Lemony hide behind his 'hard to get' front; he acted like Jack's singing, good looks, and – dare he admit it? – shameless Gryffindor chivalry didn't effect him. Right now, however, he was just hiding.

Flirting with the brunette had been a bad idea, but after hearing that song…. Lemony knew that his coldness hurt Jack, but he just couldn't help it. He was afraid, but he also didn't want to have someone else to loose.

The wind ruffled through his short hair, and Lemony followed it through with his hand, a nervous habit of his.

"You okay?" inquired a soft voice, and the blue-haired boy jumped about a foot.

"Damn it, Jack!" he said, re-sheathing his wand. "I was about to hex you!"

But Jack just shrugged and sat down beside him, looking out over the grounds. For a moment it was silent, and Lemony had the insane urge to lay his head on Jack shoulder; to ask for the comfort or understanding he wanted. Perhaps he could find it here, in the D.A's rock star?

How clichéd does that sound?

"I know something is bothering you," Jack said suddenly. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. But Lemony–" and now Jack turned away from the window to look at him piercingly. The blue-haired boy nearly found himself shaking in fear of what he would say. "– I'm here if you want to talk, or even if you just want to be near someone. No pressure."

And at that exact moment, looking into Jack's dark brown eyes, Lemony couldn't help it. He told him everything.

"His name was Sam Bennett. Fourth year. He was a Slytherin - on the Dark side, but I didn't know that at the time. He knew I was DA. I trusted him enough to tell him. I guess he'd been planning it for awhile...anyway, one day he sent me a letter asking me to meet him in the RoR. When I got there, it was pitch black. I could hear the door shut and lock behind me. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but I was wrong. All of the sudden, he jumped on me and...and..."

Lemony refused to let his voice break. He wasn't going to give in, to cry. He hadn't cried since his parents died and he wouldn't start now.

"Oh...Lemony." Jack whispered, looking lovingly at the other boy. He slowly, so as not to scare him, put his arm around Lemony's shoulders. Jack was shocked to see that he wasn't even crying - who talks about this type of thing and doesn't cry?

"You know," Jack started, phrasing his words carefully. "It's alright to cry, Lemony. We've all been through so much and - and it doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."

Lemony's knees buckled.

*The D.A know pain, they know redemption, and they know what it feels like to be accepted.*

**Demy.**

_Do you ever feel like a plastic bag_

_Drifting through the wind_

_Wanting to start again?_

_Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin_

_Like a house of cards_

_One blow from caving in_

_Do you ever feel already buried deep_

_Six feet under scream_

_But no one seems to hear a thing_

_Do you know that there's still a chance for you_

_Cause there's a spark in you_

_You just gotta ignite the light_

_And let it shine_

_Just own the night_

_Like the Fourth of July_

_Cause baby you're a firework_

_Come on show 'em what you're worth_

_Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"_

_As you shoot across the sky-y-y_

_Baby you're a firework_

_Come on let your colors burst_

_Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"_

_You're gonna leave 'em fallin' down-own-own_

_You don't have to feel like a waste of space_

_You're original, cannot be replaced_

_If you only knew what the future holds_

_After a hurricane comes a rainbow_

_Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed_

_So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road_

_Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow_

_And when it's time, you'll know_

_You just gotta ignite the light_

_And let it shine_

_Just own the night_

_Like the Fourth of July_

_Cause baby you're a firework_

_Come on show 'em what you're worth_

_Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"_

_As you shoot across the sky-y-y_

_Baby you're a firework_

_Come on let your colors burst_

_Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"_

_You're gonna leave 'em all in awe-awe-awe"_

_Boom, boom, boom_

_Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon_

_It's always been inside of you, you, you_

_And now it's time to let it through_

_Cause baby you're a firework_

_Come on show 'em what your worth_

_Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"_

_As you shoot across the sky-y-y_

_Baby you're a firework_

_Come on let your colors burst_

_Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"_

_You're gonna leave 'em all in awe-awe-awe_

_Boom, boom, boom_

_Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon_

_Boom, boom, boom_

_Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon_

Demy Robins knew she was pretty. She wasn't stupid: she had nice skin, very long, wavy dark brown hair, nice facial features, gray eyes, and a decent body. Apparently, this gave all males the excuse to stare at her.

She tugged on her hair as usual as she walked quickly through the common room, clutching her Nimbus tightly.

Demy was lucky, she knew; the Gryffindor common room was probably the safest place in the school, other than the RoR. That, however, didn't mean that everyone was D.A. They weren't, not by any means.

Demy shot a grin at Harrie, who was treating a First Year's black eye, and saluted. Harrie rolled her eyes; she hadn't appreciated Neville's idea of a chain of command in the D.A, but she was sadly out voted.

'Harrie's really pretty now,' Demy thought absently. 'I mean, I had a crush on Harry, but now that he's Harrie…she's even cuter than before…'

Demy shook her head roughly. Where were these thoughts coming from?

Chalking it up to teenage hormones, she shoving past a Sell-Out on the way through the portrait hole, Demy chose the shortcut the Harrie had shown her. Just as she was passing from the first shortcut to the second, she saw it.

"Alright, you brats, which of you did it?" Filch screamed, nearly spitting in rage. He was cowering over three terrified-looking First Years, brandishing his blood-stained whip. "I know it was one of ya…you can't hide forever…"

"But – but, Mr. Filch," stammered one of the little girls – Naomi James, Demy thought her name was. She appeared to be the leader of the others. "We don't even know what _it_ is!"

"Insolent brat!" Filch spit and, before Demy even had a chance to react, the bull whip came down right on Naomi's face. The girls screamed, falling backwards onto her friends, the gash bleeding terribly. Filch raised the whip again, ignoring the screams and sobbing of the eleven years olds, but Demy wasn't D.A – and a Gryffindor – for nothing.

In a second, the Fourth Year stepped in front the children, holding her arm up so the whip struck it, coiling around her forearm. She ignored the pain of the strike, instead using the element of surprise. Filch was staring at her in shock, but Demy was furious. She yanked the whip out of the caretaker's hands and threw it on the stone floor, pulling out her wand in the same second.

"Incendio!" she cried, pointing the wand at the strip of leather. Unfortunately, Filch was getting over his shock.

"You – you–" the old caretaker spluttered, turning steadily redder.

"Run," Demy hissed to Naomi and her friends. "Go to Hermione Granger; she'll heal you."

One of the girls nodded, looking terrified, and the three of them ran out of sight, never looking back.

By that time, Filch was recovered. Demy didn't try to run, lest the old man take his anger out on a younger student, but it was much harder – after she was drug down to the dungeons and chained up – to willingly let herself be beaten…or at least not try and stop it. It hurt, of course, and Demy hadn't felt the whip before, but the D.A would be there soon.

'Harrie….' She thought, right before she blacked out.

*The D.A doesn't run from pain.*

_**Romy.**_

_You're better then the best_

_I'm lucky just to linger in your light_

_Cooler than the flip side_

_Of my pillow, that's right_

_Completely unaware_

_Nothing can compare to where_

_You send me, lets me know that it's okay_

_Yeah, it's okay_

_And the moments where my good times start to fade_

_You make me smile like the sun, fall out of bed_

_Sing like bird, dizzy in my head_

_Spin like a record, crazy on a Sunday night_

_You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_Oh, you make me smile_

_Even when you're gone,_

_Somehow you come along just like_

_A flower pokin' through the sidewalk crack_

_And just like that_

_You steal away the rain, and just like that_

_You make me smile like the sun, fall out of bed_

_Sing like bird, dizzy in my head_

_Spin like a record, crazy on a Sunday night_

_You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_Oh, you make me smile_

_Don't know how I lived without you_

_'Cause every time that I get around you_

_I see the best of me inside your eyes_

_You make me smile_

_You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_You make me smile like the sun, fall out of bed_

_Sing like bird, dizzy in my head_

_Spin like a record, crazy on a Sunday night_

_You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_Oh, you make me smile_

_(Oh, you make me smile)_

_Oh, you make me smile_

_(Oh, you make me smile)_

_Oh, you make me smile_

Dark hands stroked through hair of nearly the same colour, black eyes staring into brown, each of them panting in time with the other. Their eyes didn't close as their lips pressed together again, tongues darting out to join and caress….

It was the desperate need of being together, being together right fucking _now_, and damn who was watching, damn Umbridge and the Carrows and Voldemort.

_I could loose you tomorrow_

_We've lost so much._

_I need to forget._

_I need you._

Pale fingers ghosted over Romy's freckles, and the Gryffindor reciprocated by kissing Orla's neck gently, making the Raven's eyes flutter shut.

"Ro," gasped Orla as the other girl's tongue flicked out as well. "Need to move…RoR…people…"

Romy pulled away sadly, noticing that they had captured the attention of several of the library patrons. They didn't need to be Cruciated right now.

"Okay, let's go to the Room," agreed Romy, standing up and pulling the slightly smaller girl with her. The two third years had no problem getting out of the library – they were avoided by all for being D.A, and doubly so by the Muggle-borns and raiseds, as being lesbian was 'taboo' in the Muggle world much more than the Wizard world.

It wasn't that they were both true lesbians; Orla was attracted only to girls, but Romy was attracted only to Orla. It had happened in a weird way; Romy had been sitting by the weeping willow tree on the grounds, and Orla had simply come up to her, said "I like you, Romilda," and kissed her.

And that was that. She left, and Romy was standing alone and very confused under the tree.

She thought for awhile, then chased down Orla, who was ascending the staircase of the Astronomy Tower, looking worried. Without saying a thing, the taller girl simply kissed Orla back.

As the girls were hurry through the seventh-floor corridor, they heard the sound of footsteps, and suddenly they ran right into three bodies.

It took less than half a second for both girls to be in a defensive crouch, wands drawn, pointing right at…

Lemony, Alex, and Li.

"Oh, thank god it's you two…" gasped the blue-haired girl, lowering her own wand as the other two did the same.

Lemony and Alex followed suit, and Lemony grinned as he said, "We're trying to get away from the Carrows, and…" but his voice trailed off as they all heard more approaching footsteps.

"They went this way!" shouted a voice they recognised as Umbridge.

"They're going to catch us…" said Alex quietly.

"Oh no they won't..." Romy disagreed, smirking. She turned to Orla, but her girlfriend had – as usual – read her mind, and was on her third pass in front of the RoR.

"Here!" the brunette said, pushing Lemony, Li, and Alex into the doorway.

"We'll cover for you, just get away now!" and she shoved the door shut in their faces.

Before either could say anything, the footsteps were heard again, closer.

Romy and Orla locked eyes, terrified.

They had to choose an excuse quick: running would likely get them caught, and staying here would make Umbridge and the Carrows suspicious about the RoR.

"I know!" Orla said suddenly, and just as the voices were close to rounding the corner…

Romy felt herself being pressed up against the stone wall, fingers tangling in her coppery hair, and she caught on quickly to what the other girl was thinking. It was the classic D.A move, and Romy needed no persuasion.

"There they are!" yelled Umbridge.

"We caught you red – what the f–"

"–the hell are you–"

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw hardly noticed the Carrows' angry and shocked voices overlapping, but, when Alecto finally regained her composure enough to cast a Cruciatus, they did notice.

In the middle of the searing pain, Romy reached out blindly for Orla's hand.

Neither let go.

*The D.A doesn't let go.*

**Orla.**

_Your eyes are blue like the ocean_

_And baby I'm lost out at sea_

_Did the sun just come out or did you smile at me_

_I've been trying to ask you but I can't seem to speak_

_Was it love at first sight 'cause I walked by last week._

_I'm singing Fa la la la la..._

_Your lips look so lonely_

_Would they like to meet mine_

_You are the one that I've been hoping to find_

_You're so sweet that you_

_Put Hersheys out of business_

_Can I have a photograph to show my friends that_

_Angels truly exist._

_I'm singing Fa la la la la..._

_You're as cute as a button_

_The things you do sure are something_

_Are you running out of breath_

_From running through my head, all night._

_Is there something in your eye_

_Oh wait, it's just a sparkle_

_Can you get a little closer_

_And help me out a little bit_

_I scraped my knee fallin' for you_

_But baby a kiss will do._

_I'm singing Fa la la la la la..._

_You're as cute as a button_

_The things you do sure are something_

_Are you running out of breath_

_From running through my head, all night._

_I'm falling in love_

_And wouldn't I like to think so_

_And every night I look at the stars out my window_

_And I hope I can see_

_The one that we saw together_

_It was just you and me and honestly_

_I'll look for that star forever._

_I'm falling in love_

_And wouldn't I like to think so_

_And every night I look at the stars out my window_

_And I hope I can see_

_The one that we saw together_

_It was just you and me and honestly_

_I'll look for that star forever._

_You're as cute as a button_

_The things you do sure are something_

_Are you running out of breath_

_From running through my head, all night._

_You're as cute as a button_

_The things you do sure are something_

_Are you running out of breath_

_From running through my head, all night._

"No…no, please…no!"

Orla shot straight up in bed, looking for the source of the anguished cries. It took her a moment to realise it was her.

Shaking terribly, Orla peeked out of the curtains to make sure her screams hadn't woken any of her roommates. They hadn't, she noticed with relief.

Orla, you see, had a reoccurring nightmare. Ever since Remy had informed her that she had almost been raped by Rodolphus Lestrange during a Battle, Orla's Ravenclaw mind had been focused on what could have happened to her girlfriend. The dreams happened every few nights, and made her wish even more than normal that Remy was able to stay with her in the Ravenclaw tower.

Orla was still shaking slightly as she stepped out of the shower, dressed, and made her way to her favourite sport in the Common Room.

"Terry?" she asked in shock, staring at a blond head on the couch by the fire. Was he..._smiling_?

"Oh! Hi Orla," he said, jumping slightly. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Orla replied with a quirked brow, sitting down next to him.

Terry smiled again. Orla felt like she was having a out-of-body experience.

"Morag and Li woke me up for Care of Magical creatures. It was early, since the creatures are only visible in the morning. They went back to sleep but I didn't feel like it..."

"What happened to you?" Orla demanded, glaring at the older boy.

"What do you mean?" Terry said innocently.

"You're smiling! And talking!"

"I just...I had a good dream, that's all." He said, not meeting her eyes.

Orla narrowed her eyes, but decided to drop it. "Fine."

"However, you failed to answer my question. Why are you awake?" Terry asked.

"N-no reason..." Orla said, her voice breaking only slightly. "Bad dream, you know..."

Suddenly Terry scooted closer, putting his arm around her shoulders and tugging Orla gently against him.

"Romy?" asked Terry quietly.

Orla choked down a sob and nodded.

For around an hour, Terry held Orla as she cried and told him about the dream. He didn't try and tell her it would never happen - just that he understood.

There wasn't age or gender in the Ravenclaw Common Room that morning. It didn't matter than Orla was two years younger than Terry, or that one of them was gay and the other was lesbian.

*The DA sticks together.*

**Weaver**

_Flowers cut and brought inside_

_Black cars in a single line_

_Your family in suits and ties_

_And you're free_

_The ache I feel inside_

_Is where the life has left your eyes_

_I'm alone for our last goodbye_

_But you're free_

_I remember you like yesterday, yesterday_

_I still can't believe you're gone, oh..._

_I remember you like yesterday, yesterday_

_And until I'm with you, I'll carry on_

_Adrift on your ocean floor_

_I feel weightless, numb, and sore_

_A part of you in me is torn_

_And you're free_

_I woke from a dream last night_

_I dreamt that you were by my side_

_Reminding me I still had life_

_In me_

_I'll carry on_

_Every lament is a love song_

_Yesterday, yesterday_

_I still can't believe you're gone_

_So long my friend, so long_

Everyone seemed to think that because Weaver had his bangs streaked rainbow, he must be gay. As a matter of fact, he wasn't. He had it done because his older brother had been gay, and he was targeted first by Muggles - for being gay - then by Death Eaters - for being a Squib.

Weaver didn't talk much after that. He hadn't been close to his brother, and always regretted that. He tried to make up for it by helping as many people as he could through the DA.

Which was what he was doing at that moment. Some First Year Slytherins – ones who had made fun of his hair just the other day – had decided it was a good idea to write 'Umbrige sucks' on her classroom door after she gave them Blood-Quill detentions.

"Do you mean to tell me," said Umbridge in her sickly-sweet voice. "That _you_, Mr. Harper, were the one to write that?"

"Yes ma'am," said Weaver politely, mask firmly in place – mentally and physically.

"And you – a Forth Year – spelled my name incorrectly?"

"I suppose I did ma'am," Weaver said calmly. "I wasn't paying attention at the time."

Umbridge smile-glared. "Well," she said, "In this case, I suppose the punishment should fit the crime. Here," she pulled out a Blood Quill. "Take this and write _'I will not mock the High Inquisitor'._"

Weaver took it without any expression. "How many times, ma'am?"

"Just once," said Umbridge sweetly. "After all, _you _only wrote on my door once."

Weaver frowned; this was a surprisingly light punishment. However he sat down at the desk and took out a sheet of parchment. He wrote:

_I will not mock the High Inquisitor._

It took him a moment to realize that this quill wasn't like the others; it had a black streak up the side. Weaver wondered what that could mean…

"AHH!" he cried suddenly, his hand flying up to his forehead as a sharp pain cut through it. Blood ran into his eyes and down his face. Umbridge smiled.

Without looking, Weaver knew what it said.

A few minutes later Weaver was clutching a ripped sleeve to the bleeding cuts on his forehead and walking as quickly as he could to the Gryffindor dormitory. Umbridge had forbade him to go to the Nurse, of course, and although Weaver was no sissy about pain, he knew he would pass out from blood loss soon. Turning a corner slightly off-balance, Weaver nearly ran into someone.

He was shocked to see none other than Braeden Mordicae, Kione Hawthorne, and Than Westmoreland – the kids he had taken the Quill for.

Weaver pushed past them, intending to go straight to the Tower. He didn't regret saving them – they were just kids; they didn't know they were on the wrong side – but Braeden cleared his throat.

"Er – Harper?"

The fourth year froze, turning and raising an eyebrow.

"We – we just wanted to say thanks. For taking the blame for us." Mordicae continued.

"That was really – Gryffindor." Hawthorne added. "But it was benevolent, and we appreciate it."

"You're welcome." Said Weaver, still not letting the mask slip. Inside, however, he was dumbstruck.

Mordicae and Hawthorne scurried off down the hall, but Than stayed.

"I – I hope you guys win, Weaver," Than told his cousin. He hugged him quickly, then ran off after his friends.

Weaver and Than were not usually allowed to acknowledge each other in public – the Westmoreland's were Dark sympathizers, after all – but Weaver appreciated the gesture and words from his little cousin whom he used to be so close to, and he was still smiling when he reached Gryffindor.

*The D.A protects the young.*

**Li**

_Na na  
Na na na na na  
I miss you  
Miss you so bad  
I don't forget you  
Oh it's so sad_

I hope you can hear me  
I remember it clearly

The day you slipped away  
Was the day i found  
It won't be the same  
Oh

Na na  
Na na na na na  
I didn't get around to kiss you  
Goodbye on the hand  
I wish that I could see you again  
I know that I can't ooooooooooooh  
I hope you can hear me  
Cause I remember it clearly

I've had my wake up  
Won't you wake up  
I keep asking why  
And I can't take it  
It wasn't fake it  
It happened you passed by

Now you're gone  
Now you're gone  
There you go  
There you go  
Somewhere I can't bring you back  
Now you're gone  
Now you're gone  
There you go  
There you go  
Somewhere you're not coming back

Na na  
Na na na na na  
I miss you

It took Li twenty minutes of staring at her Arithmancy essay to realize she hadn't written anything in an hour. She just couldn't stop thinking about _them_ – not just her best friends, Sally-Anne, Mandy, and Tony, but her family.

Aunt Ju had raised Li and her brother Jin since they were seven and five, respectively. Her parents had both caught Dragon Pox and, rather than take medicine or see a Healer, opted for dangerous Asian home remedies. Needless to say, the remedies didn't work. After their Obaasan, Keiko, had lost her husband, she moved in as well. They were a close, tight-knit family. To make their deaths worse, Aunt Ju had been six months pregnant at the time with her first child. Jin had been almost fourteen during a Battle. He fought, but he didn't make it.

Li found herself wiping her eyes slightly as she stared over the lake. Suddenly, her eyes zeroed in on a shape in the bushes nearby – a shape with _blonde hair._

Suddenly, Li felt all her anger at the people who had killed her family and friends burst forward, and before she knew it she was yanking Draco Malfoy out of the bush he had been hiding in and bringing her first forward into his jaw. He moaned slightly, falling to the ground as Li released him. She was shocked to say the least when he didn't move to hex her or run and get his little Squad.

"What's wrong, Malfoy?" she sneered. "Did I hit too hard for you?"

The boy whimpered slightly, and that was when Li noticed something on his clothes. Something red. _A lot _of something red. And some blue, black, and purple somethings as well.

It looked like Draco Malfoy had been attacked, and that made no sense at all.

Li helped Draco up.

*The D.A is made for the redeemeding of souls.*

**Morag**

_If you're not home, I'll sit here on your doorstep_  
_Button up my coat and wait_  
_We'll go upstairs close the curtains and we're all set_  
_to pick up where we left again_

_There's question marks hangin' over us_  
_But we won't give the time of day, oh_  
_'Cause all we got is these few stolen seconds_  
_And we can't let them go to waste_

_The stars collide_  
_We come back to life_  
_We come back to life_  
_The sparks will fly_  
_One look in your eyes_  
_My heart's open wide_

_I know time's running out now_  
_But we'll hold back the sun somehow_  
_See the sky?_  
_We've still got tonight_  
_We've still got tonight_

_Come 9am_  
_I'm packing every suitcase_  
_Leave you in your bed so warm_  
_I'll do my best not to wake you but it's useless_  
_Can't tiptoe 'round this no more, oh_

_It's gonna get much harder_  
_Before it gets better baby and that's for sure, mmm_  
_Just say you'll wait for my footsteps on the staircase_  
_And I will walk back through this door_

_The stars collide_  
_We come back to life_  
_We come back to life_  
_The sparks will fly_  
_One look in your eyes_  
_My heart's open wide_

_I know time's running out now_  
_But we'll hold back the sun somehow_  
_See the sky?_  
_We've still got tonight_  
_We've still got tonight_

_So keep your eyes open_  
_There's no time to close them_  
_Just hold on_  
_So tight now_  
_We still got tonight_  
_(We've still got tonight)_  
_(We've still got tonight)_

_If all we got is these few stolen seconds_  
_We can't let em go to waste_

_The stars collide_  
_We come back to life_  
_We come back to life_  
_The sparks will fly_  
_One look in your eyes_  
_My heart's open wide_

_I know time's running out now_  
_But we'll hold back the sun somehow_  
_See the sky?_  
_We've still got tonight_  
_We've still got tonight_

_We've still got tonight_  
_We've still got tonight_

'_I'm not going to say it, I'm not saying anything, nope, lips are sealed. Meditation. That's the key. Just don't listen, don't think. Don't – don't – BUT DAMNIT I HATE UMBRIDGE!' _

Morag MacDougal's fingernails drew lines on the underside of the desk as Toad Woman droned on and on about superiority of blood and how stupid magical creatures were and that Voldemort was wonderful. The usual.

Umbridge made it a point to create the classes in such a way that only one or two D.A would be in each class, so Morag was sharing a desk with Lisa Turpin (Everyone say: 'Poor Lisa!'). Terry was in the class as well, but he was across the room at the front – and clearly not paying attention. Frequently, Morag would notice him reach up the touch the part of his collar where the hickey was. She almost laughed, silently thanking Mike, wherever he was, for giving her a part of her friend back.

"Miss MacDougal!" Umbridge cried. "Kindly stop making eyes at Mr. Boot and answer my question!"

Most of the class snickered, but Morag and Terry snorted. As _if._

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear the question ma'am," said Morag, faking politeness. She knew it would be a "Why was Mr/Miss _ cruciated/whipped/Quilled/tortured today?" question already. Those were her _favourite _(note the sarcasm).

Umbridge grimaced her fake smile. "Why was Miss Robins disciplined today?"

Morag heard Terry gasp as her own face went pale. "Robins – D-Demelza Robins?"

Umbridge nearly beamed. "That's right."

Terry and Morag raced through the hallways as fast as they could, tearing through shortcuts and up stair and through corridors as fast as their highly trained legs could take them. Unfortunately, by the time they were in Gryffindor tower they were panting so hard they could hardly breathe.

"What? What's going on?" demanded Jack – who, for some reason, had a lapful of Lemony.

"What happened?" asked Harrie, looking up from where she was dabbing at a bloody mess on Weaver's forehead.

"D-Demy," gasped Morag. "Demy – Filch – whip – dungeon–!"

*The D.A care for their own – no matter the cost.*

**Hermione**

_All my dreams_  
_I'm chasing after,_  
_they don't need_  
_all this laughter..._

_I take a grain of salt,_  
_stiff upper lip._  
_It's not their fault_  
_I'm not as hip._  
_Wake up kid, you know you're more than this..._

_I'm the smartest person_  
_that I've ever met._  
_So why do I allow myself to_  
_possibly forget:_

_There's so much I know how to do,_  
_so much more than all of you._  
_The only thing I wish I knew_  
_was how to make them see_  
_the girl that I can be..._

_I am_  
_the coolest girl in the whole wide world_  
_I know it_  
_but can't show it at all._

_I am_  
_sick and tired_  
_of low, not higher_  
_places, where I should belong._  
_It's about time I proved them wrong..._

_Give me a shot_  
_to show what I've got!_  
_I'm a helluva whole lot more,_  
_than this frizzy hair,_  
_these frumpy clothes I wear,_  
_though I rock 'em like nobody you've seen before!_

_'Cause I am_  
_the coolest girl in the whole wide world!_  
_I know it_  
_below it all._

_I am_  
_done with losin',_  
_on with choosin'_

_the coolest girl on the face of the planet,_  
_the coolest bitch on earth, goddammit!_  
_The coolest chick you've ever seen or heard!_

_So you can try to bring me down,_  
_but sorry guys, I'm stickin' around!_  
_I've thought about it, and I've found_

_That I am_  
_the coolest girl!_  
_... Yeah!_

Needless to say, everyone was up in a second. Hermione noticed happily (As happily as she could under the circumstances at least) that Harrie was out the door before anyone.

_Ah, young love…._

When they entered the dungeon, however, Hermione realized something, and put a hand on Harrie's arm to stop her.

"What?" she cried angrily, wanting as usual to barge right in and demand her soldier back.

"Harrie," Hermione said gently. "We don't have a plan. Filch isn't about to simply _give _Demy to us!"

Harrie's face fell.

"Damn it," muttered Jack.

There was silence for a moment as everyone tried to come up with a plan that would work before Demy bled out.

"Wait – is that Snape?" said Orla suddenly.

"Where?" asked Harrie, turning immediately. Maybe he could help them…

"No, listen!" Orla said urgently.

Sure enough, they could hear raised voices down the hall. They silently edged closer.

"I'm sure she deserved it, Filch," Snape was saying silkily. "But we cannot simply allow her to bleed to death here. It is not part of the Dark Lord's plans yet. She will be healed, understand?"

"But – but headmaster–" Filch began to whine.

"Are you arguing with me, Filch?"

"No – no sir, take her down, yes sir, got it."

The D.A locked eyes with each other, glad that they were letting Demy go. It was one of the few-and-far-between blessings.

"Come on," Harrie said. "We can at least carry her."

They opened the door to see Snape and Filch standing by what looked like a dummy someone had streaked with red paint on the back, and shackled to the wall.

Hermione was amazed at Harrie's calmness as she said, "We'll carry her."

Filch jumped, but Snape looked unsurprised. He nodded. "Very well." He said in an uncaring voice.

Hands shaking, Hermione preformed a spell to stop the bleeding. Harrie's hands gently unshackled Demy from the wall and held her still while Terry conjured a stretcher, careful not to touch her wounds. Luckily for all of them, Demy was still unconscious.

While Snape's back was turned, Hermione got a sudden inspiration and pulled out her wand, casting a spell on Filch's foot. He jumped, screaming as a blue flame engulfed his foot. It wouldn't disappear until Demy was healed, that Hermione was certain of.

*The D.A _will _get revenge for their own.*


End file.
